The Dinner Party
by demonprosecutor
Summary: Phoenix and Trucy decide to throw a dinner party with the help of Ema and Apollo. Quite a bit of Klema, though not an entirely Klema fic. Spoliers for AJ. K to be safe.


DISCLAIMER:

WARNING: Spoilers for AJ.

DISCLAIMER: List of stuff I don't own: Ace Attorney Series; Ipods, Love Song by Bareilles; anything

"Daddy! Daddy, wake up. It's Sunday!"

Phoenix rolled over, rubbing his eyes. His daughter sat on the bed, shaking him by the shoulders vigorously. He waved her away, indicating that he was awake.

"What's so special about Sunday?" her mumbled.

"Duh, Daddy. We're throwing the dinner party today. You know, the one that we removed all the furniture in the office for? That's why it's all in your room, see?"

"Oh yeah. _That_ dinner party."

_They had been planning the dinner party for two weeks. The invitations had gone out a week ago. Everyone was coming, apart from Wocky who was working. Or so he said, considering that the pie shop wasn't open on Sundays. _

_It was being held at the Wright Anything Agency, and held _by_ the Wright family. The Wright family and co., that is, co being Apollo and Ema. Trucy and Phoenix would be cooking, with help from Ema and Apollo, who would also be waiting on the guests._

_The dinner party was to help Phoenix "get back into society" according to his daughter. It would be the grandest, posh-est event held by the Wrights. Nine guests would be dining: Klavier, Valant, Lamiroir, Machi, Vera, Eldoon, Spark Brushel, Winston Payne and Wesley Stickler._

_What could possibly go wrong?_

"Right. We are assembled here to today to-" Phoenix began, addressing the three people standing in front of him looking distracted.

"Yeah, whatever, Daddy, we know what we're doing. Well, sort of. Some of us do. Does anyone here have any idea what we're doing?"

Everyone replied in the negative. It was then they realised that, if you're going to hold a massive dinner party, it's a good idea to come up with a plan first. For example, what they were going to cook would be a good lead. Then perhaps some ingredients might help a little.

"Right. In that case, we need to rush," said Trucy, the clear leader. "The guests will be arriving in an hour and will expect the food ten minutes after. Daddy, get the cook book, we need to figure out what we're making. Then me and Ema will go buy everything. Daddy, you're paying."

"Whatever. But it on my groceries account. I'll pay it later."

"How much later?" asked Apollo.

"A lot later. Maybe next year if they're lucky."

They searched the whole house for a cook book, then made Apollo run home to grab his laptop. They then scoured the internet for a dinner party menu, and found one, until Ema suddenly remembered what Klavier had told her.

"_Hallo, Fraulein! Just remembered something. About that dinner party – I'm a vegetarian."_

"_No you're not! You're eating a burger right now."_

"_I'm becoming a vegetarian for the dinner party. Then I'm going to stop."_

"_Just to annoy me?"_

"_Ja."_

"Then what did he say?" asked Trucy.

"Well, technically the next thing he said was, "Ahhhhh!" That was because I had just punched him and he was flying across the room. Then he banged into a wall and stopped. Then I got a pay-cut, but it was so worth it."

An eerie silence filled the room. Maybe it _hadn't_ been a good idea to organise and event where Klavier and Ema would have to be in the same room for a short period of time. She might poison the food or something.

"Ema, I'll serve Klavier. You stay away from him," decided Apollo. It was for the best.

They decided on an easy starter of rye bread and various dips. Main course would be lasagne, with a lamb or vegetarian option. Dessert would be strawberries and homemade ice cream.

Ema and Trucy climbed into Ema's tiny green car and drove to the shop. Trucy sat on the edge of the trolley, screaming with glee as they raced up and down the aisles, grabbing what they needed. It was far better, and far cheaper, than any rollercoaster she had ever been on. It hurt at the end when Ema tipped her off, but it was worth it.

Just before they jumped back into the car, the windows now all blocked with shopping bags, Trucy realised something.

"Hey! We haven't got waitress and waiter outfits! Or champagne!"

"Do we _need_ that?"

"Yes. We can't fit anything in the car – I'll get Daddy to nip into the fancy dress shop and the alcohol shop. They know him well there. He can get some there."

The drive back was bumpy due to Ema not being able to see anything but shopping bags, and being distracted by Trucy chatting on the phone to her Daddy. Rode rage soon followed.

By the time they got back, Phoenix had bought the champagne – ten bottles, for some insane reason, as there were only nine guests – and the waiter/waitress outfits. Apollo had already changed into his uniform, and was now arguing with Phoenix over whether he had to wear the moustache or not.

"I paid for that moustache, Justice, and you will wear it. That is final."

"But it look stupid."

"Listen, kid. Back when I was a lawyer-"

"Daddy, put Polly down and give Ema her uniform."

"Ah yes. About that. You might not like this, Ema, but it was all they had in the shop."

The black mini dress, accessorised by the white apron, didn't even reach Ema's knees. The knee-height boots covered most of the fisher-net stockings, and Ema's glasses were replaced with a white waitress' cap. She gave Phoenix the longest death stare ever. Apollo just stared on in shock.

"What are you gawping at, lawyer boy?"

"Nothing, ma'am!" squealed the poor boy, barely past puberty. He leapt under the nearest table.

"God, Mr Wright, what were you thinking? What's Klavier going to think?"

"Why do you care what Klavier thinks, eh?" said Phoenix teasingly. He regretted immediately a rant about pay cuts and idiot bosses followed. It soon became a catalogue of all of Klavier's faults. A long one.

"OK, OK, I get it. We'll lock him in a cupboard if he says anything," he muttered. "We need to get to work now. Apollo, get out from under the table."

Apollo crawled out from under the table and shuffled into the kitchen, trying not to look in Ema's direction. _Poor lad_, Phoenix thought.

"Right then," Trucy said, pulling on the white chef's hat and apron with a picture of a random dolphin on it. "Let's get started with the starter."

"That is the way things are usually done," Apollo muttered.

"While you two do that, I'll work on the main course. Ema, you stand outside and wait for the guests. Take their coats and stuff," said Phoenix, swapping his beanie hat for another chefs hat and an apron with an equally random squirrel.

"We've got twenty minutes yet!"

"Ema, look at the poor kid. You're terrifying the boy."

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry, Apollo. I'll go stand outside then," she said, and left to throw Snackoos at unsuspecting birds and anyone who would even look at her.

There were five dips, ten bowls and twenty pieces of rye bread with two baskets to put them in. Very simple. Within five minutes, the kitchen was covered in guacamole, humus and various other dips and chutneys. The rest was in ten dollops in the two baskets. Each bowl held two pieces of bread. Apollo felt they might have made a small mistake, but Trucy was quite pleased with their masterpiece, declaring it to be original and unpredictable.

The first guest arrived soon after. You could count on Klavier Gavin to inconvenience Ema by arriving ten minutes early. She opened the door. He immediately smiled that mischievous smile and opened his mouth to speak. Ema stopped him just in time.

"If you say one word, you'll be flying through the air into that wall, you hear? Good. Now go in there. There's a big table. You can't miss it. Sit there and wait for someone else to turn up."

"Service with a smile, Fraulein. I think this is why you aren't a professional waitress," he laughed. Just as he was at the door and out of harm's way, he added, "Though you do look rather fetching in that outfit, Fraulein. Maybe you should take it up full time. Or you could just wear that to your current job – I certainly wouldn't complain." He then scarpered into the dining room and barricaded the door till she had calmed down.

The next guests were Lamiroir and Machi. They immediately jumped into a Borginian conversation with Klavier, until Apollo and Ema (who had torn herself away from her exciting position at the door) turned up with the dips and random bowls of bread.

"Herr Forehead, you have guacamole on your nose."

"What is quackamole?" asked a confused Machi in his heavy Borginian accent.

"Oh, shut up, Machi," Lamiroir muttered, straying from her usual personality.

"What is shut up?"

"I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!!" Lamiroir screamed, hanging her head in her hands. "Every single day, it's what is this, what is that, and I _just can't stand it anymore_."

Machi was moved to a chair at the opposite end of the table. Lamiroir and Klavier resumed their conversation, leaving the boy to draw on the table mat. Trucy got really annoyed, and an argument followed.

"Machi, those cost a fortune, you idiot!"

"What is idiot?"

"A stupid person."

"What is stupid?"

"You know what that means, Machi. You've written it on this napkin with a picture of Lamiroir. What are you talking about?"

"What is what?"

Luckily Trucy was called away by the doorbell before she could slap him. Ema claimed to be on a coffee break, while she was really calling her sister, asking how to go about getting a restraining order against German rock-star prosecutors.

Wesley Stickler immediately joined the Borginian conversation, despite his lack of knowledge about the language. Klavier and Lamiroir were left baffled after hearing such things as, "Being a hamster, I aim for a degree in sandwiches," and, "I was unable to attend the lecture because I was sleeping with my professor." A short English conversation explained that he in fact meant talking to and not sleeping with.

The others – Valant, Eldoon, Vera and Spark – arrived at roughly the same time, and soon everyone had sat down to polite conversation, apart from Valant who was insulting everyone with alliteration. They just ignored him, having no idea who he was talking to.

Winston Payne was twenty minutes late. This would upset the guests and their imaginary schedule. They had to find him.

"Guys, who here had a phone?" asked Trucy to the three hosts who were bumbling around the kitchen, pretending to be busy. "They disconnected ours. Again. And Daddy still won't let me get a mobile."

"Sorry, sweetie, but my phone ran out of credit and I can't be bothered to top it up," said Phoenix.

"I lent mine to Mr. Wright," muttered Apollo, "And he didn't give it back." Phoenix shrugged, ignoring the death glare.

All eyes turned to Ema.

"Well, you see…I sort of…kind of…blew mine up. By accident, of course."

This left them only one solution, as Trucy explained. Someone was going to have to ask one of the guests for their mobiles. A waiter/waitress of course.

"Why me?" moaned Ema. "Why not Apollo? He never does anything."

"Apollo's got his hand stuck in the freezer. We're trying to chisel it out. When we do, we'll send him to help."

Ema stomped out into the dining room. The guests glanced away from Valant's rather slow trick of making the ice gradually melt in the jugs of water.

"I've been sent out here to borrow a mobile phone. Judging by Payne's sense of direction, he could be anywhere from here to China. Judging by his way of talking for a long time, the call could last anything from twenty seconds to two hours. Anyone willing to lend?"

Everyone shuffled nervously in their chairs, apart from Klavier, who grinned ridiculously and held out his flashy purple mobile.

"Anything for you, Fraulein," he said as she snatched it out of his hands reluctantly.

Apollo, Ema and Trucy crowded round as Phoenix typed in the number and set the phone to loudspeaker. It rang slowly and dramatically. Finally, an annoyingly high pitched voice answered.

"_Hello, this is Prosecutor Winston Payne __speaking."_

"_Yeah, whatever, Payne. This is Phoenix Wright asking __**where the hell are you**__?"_

"_I'm driving around trying to find you!"_

"_Do you know where Wright and Co. is?"_

"_Yes."_

"_It's that."_

"_Oh! I'm just outside."_

"_Then get inside. Goodbye."_

He slammed the phone down and handed it to Ema, who handed it to Apollo, who handed it to Klavier, who looked disappointed that Apollo hadn't handed it back to Ema to hand it back to him. Winston Payne turned up ten minutes later, having locked himself inside his car until he figured out how to open the door. He missed the starter. Everyone reassured him that he hadn't missed out on anything worthwhile.

"They've finished," Apollo announced to the kitchen, "Is the main course done yet?"

"Nearly we're just about to get it o-"

And, with that, the oven exploded, taking with it the kitchen counters. Lasagne covered the walls, floor, ceiling and Apollo, who had been standing too close.

"Uh…we need some more counters. And a new waiter," said Apollo, who had a bit of a talent for stating the damn well obvious.

"I've got it!" said genius-kid Trucy, "Ema, come with me. We'll need two people, and I refuse to be seen in public with Apollo while he's looking like that."

The guests, who were too busy listening to Klavier's portable Ipod speakers to care about the bang in the kitchen, were surprised to see Trucy and Ema running through the dining room like Gumshoe after hearing there was a free buffet in the next room.

Trucy and Ema ran up the stairs to the Wright's flat. In Phoenix's bedroom they found a grand piano. How careless of him to leave one of those lying around.

The two agreed that the dinner party was already ruined, and that they may as well have some fun for the rest of it. Ema had taken piano lessons as a child, and they soon came up with a plan. At the speed of lightening, they attached the piano stool to the piano with some wooden planks. They pulled a long carpet over the stairs making a ramp. If they pushed the piano as the right speed, it would go down the stairs, through the dining hall and into the kitchen.

The guests were starting to wonder where the main course was. Spark Brushel declared that he was, "Utterly Hungry-end quote," and Vera drew a picture of an empty plate. While all of the guests were complementing her on the perfect proportions of the fork, the door burst open.

Trucy sat on the lid of the piano singing and tapping an upside down bin with a pencil as if it were a drum. Ema sat on the now-attached stool, playing the only song she could remember.

"I'm not gonna write you a love song, cause you asked for it, cause you need one, you see…"

The song faded away as the piano continued it's journey into the kitchen. Said journey ended abruptly with a crash. The guests looked at the door in shock, until Trucy appeared at the door holding a piano key.

"We're _OK_!!" she said with a grin. A cheer from their audience followed, apart from Klavier who was still in shock that Ema had any musical talent whatsoever.

Inside the kitchen, Phoenix was preparing a main course of very simple sushi on top of the piano. Trucy gave Ema a high five.

"Hey, where's Apollo?" asked Ema. She didn't really care, she was just wondering.

"Where's who? Oh, that guy. I don't know – last I saw him, he was sneaking outside with two bottles of champagne," said Phoenix. Trucy and Ema looked at each other. This was not good.

They found him sitting on Klavier's motorbike making revving noises. The champagne was nowhere to be seen. The bottles, however, they did fine.

"Apollo," said Ema sternly, "What have you got to say for yourself."

"I…am as happy…as a flying little kitty cat," he replied in slurred words. He then burst into fits of hysteric laughter. Trucy and Ema dragged him back to the lasagne covered kitchen where he passed out on the grand piano.

Trucy took over from Apollo's role as waiter, carrying half of the plates of sushi out to the guests. Three people tipped her saying she was, "just too cute." Ema didn't get any tips, and spent the whole time in the dining room giving her colleague death stares.

She put the plate down in front of Klavier reluctantly, without the smile she would give all of the other guests. She was about to return to the kitchen to help clean up, but he grabbed her by the arm.

"Fraulein, I'd like to register a complaint. I told you last week that I was a vegetarian. That includes fish. Fish is in sushi, ja? Go figure."

"You're not a vegetarian. You're just an idiot."

"Service with a smile, Fraulein. The customer is _always _right."

Ema sighed and rolled her eyes. She opened the door to the kitchen and yelled to Phoenix.

"Chef, the blonde jerk if refusing to eat it on the grounds that it's dead."

"What, does he want something alive?" Phoenix replied.

"I don't know – can you just throw together a salad?"

"Half of the fridge went with the oven. I'll see what we still have. Cheese, tomatoes, and some weird unlabelled leaves. Yeah, I can do a salad. Be out in five minutes."

"OK. Did you hear that, fop?"

"Ja. Thanks, Fraulein." He winked at her. She gave him another death stare. It could have been worse had Phoenix not confiscated her Snackoos for the day.

Trucy served Klavier this time. When she arrived back she had a massive grin on her face. She started babbling about Princes of Rock and perfection and stuff. Ema interrupted with another list of Klavier's faults. Then Apollo started muttering in his sleep about turkeys and July. Phoenix just plugged himself into his Ipod and started washing the strawberries, one by one, and grouping them into groups on account of their size and shade of red. By the time the main course was finished, they were actually in their bowls.

"Aren't we missing something?" asked Trucy.

"Yeah! Wasn't there meant to be something else on this?" said Ema. Then it hit them. Homemade ice cream was also on the menu.

"So much for homemade," yelled Ema, grabbing her lab coat. "Trucy you serve the up as a sort of starter. I'll go get some ice cream."

While she was gone, Trucy sat staring at Apollo and Phoenix started to play something that sounded remotely like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It turned out he was trying to play a song by the Gavinners.

Ema burst through the door with a trolley full of little paper pots. She had driven down to the cinema where they were selling them in the interval. She just pretended she was a teacher with a bunch of school kids and they sold them to her for half price.

Phoenix scooped the ice cream out of the tubs into bowls. Trucy and Ema served them up, pretending they were homemade. They stood by the door, finally free from the kitchen. Phoenix came out too – Apollo didn't, purely because he was unconscious.

Everything was going fine. No-one was arguing with, fighting with, or murdering anyone else. Of course, there was no way it could last.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!" screamed Payne, leaping up onto the table. "For the whole evening, no-one's spoken to me. I can't stand being a social reject anymore! I'm going to tell you all what I think of you!"

He walked over the table, knocking everything down. He pointed at Klavier, who immediately went pale, his eyes wide. He looked genuinely terrified, much to Ema's joy.

"You1" hissed Payne, "You think you're better than everyone at the prosecutor's office. You're a rubbish prosecutor! And I think your music is raucous and annoying." Ema cheered, then stopped abruptly as Payne turned to her.

"And you, with your science mumbo-jumbo. During the one case I had to work with you on, I found you rude and infuriating. It was science this and Snackoos that! Do you _ever_ shut up?!" It was Klavier's turn to smile smugly.

"And you, Phoenix Wright. I hate you!! Every time we met in court I _lost. _Four times! Twice the lawyer, twice the defendant, and every time _I lost_!!"

"Don't speak to my Daddy like tha-"

"And you! The annoying little magician, always so happy and blah blah blah – it's not all about you!!" he screamed. He was starting to get mad now.

"And then there's noodle man over here! Always with that whistle. It's not even a whistle, it's just a cheap plastic harmonica that you got free with a magazine! And you know what? I DON'T EVEN LIKE NOODLES!!

"And you, Miss I'm-so-amazing-cause-I-lost-my-memory-and-have-a-nice-voice. No-one cares! Get over yourself!

"And then there's your little assistant. What is this, what is that? I've had enough of it, jerk!!"

"What is j-"

"SHUT UP!! You, you're no better. End quote, end quote, end flipping quote. It's not even a quote if you just make it up on the spot! The there's you with your stupid alliteration! You think your such a great magician, but you're just a wannabe really! And you, with your stupid book and your stupid IQ. All those stupid words. It's just stupid, you teacher's pet! STUPID!!"

He stamped down on the table. He was breathing heavily now and his face had gone red. He pointed at Vera who was clutching her sketch pad with fear.

"And you, you're the worst. So you _ever speak_? Always drawing on that little book! You can't even draw! They're just scribbles!"

Vera drew a sad face with an exclamation mark over its head. This was the last straw. Payne lunged for the sketch pad and was about to thwack Vera over the head with it when he was suddenly shot with a tranquiliser gun.

"Hey, Wright. Help me drag him out to the police car, pal. We got a call asking us to turn up. Payne have another of his "moments" apparently."

"That'd be me, Chief Detective Gumshoe," said Ema. "Sorry I had to call your personal number, sir, but I forgot the number for 911. Oh, by the way, Gavin, here's your phone back. you should learn to notice when someone is stealing your phone."

"Hey! You stole my phone!"

"What of it?"

After Payne had been dragged out to the police car, the guests left. Ema stood by the door, apologising for Payne's behaviour and thanking them for coming.

"Worst Dinner Party Ever. End Quote."

"A dreadfully disastrous dinner party. Allakazam, Allakazing, Allakaboom."

"Should have done noodles. Defiantly should have done noodles."

"By dinner I assumed you referred to an elegant evening meal where a group of upper-class, educated people like myself would assemble together to eat sophisticated, delectable food while taking part in intelligent yet refined conversation. I did not expect…this."

"What is English for this? Ah, yes. Cat-as-troph-e."

"That was … interesting. Maybe I'll have another memory loss and forget all about it…"

"So, Fraulein. Didn't go so well, ja?"

"Whatever. See you at work, Gavin."

"Ja. See you, Fraulein." He leant over and kissed her on the cheek. She went bright red and pushed him away.

"See you at work," she muttered. Phoenix and Trucy, who were watching from a distance, couldn't hold back the laughter. They were the last two people that night to get death glares before the tidying up commenced. They were tidying up for six hours, until the only things left in the kitchen were half a fridge and Apollo. Then Ema went home and Trucy and Phoenix went back to the flat to hit the hay.

Needless to say, Apollo was very confused when he woke up the next morning wearing a lasagne-splattered waiter's outfit in an empty room lying on half a fridge.


End file.
